


Cannot Be Unseen

by quiet__tiger



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Owen walks in on Ianto and Jack.





	Cannot Be Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> Set between Dead Man Walking and Exit Wounds.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal Jul. 21st, 2009.

Being dead sucked, and was full of long empty nights. Late night television was only entertaining for the first few hours if he wasn’t drunk, and Internet porn wasn’t so fun when he couldn’t get hard, so sometimes Owen went back to the Hub to do some extra work. Well, ‘work’ was loosely defined, but at least sometimes he could talk to Jack. He didn’t understand the man and he wasn’t always good company, but he was okay to talk to periodically.

That was how Owen found himself at his desk in the middle of the night, organizing files on his computer so he could actually find them if he needed them at some point. Jack didn’t seem to be around; maybe he was out checking a Rift incident, or taking a walk, or at Ianto’s.

He wasn’t concerned at all when he heard footsteps, but when he looked to greet Jack the words died on his lips.

He was _definitely_ concerned about Ianto. Particularly his suit. And the way he was carrying his gun. And the baggie in his other hand.

The suit was a garish purple, and the gun had recently been fired. And… was that makeup in the baggie?

Cautiously, like he was talking to a potentially dangerous animal, Owen asked, “Ianto?”

For his part, Ianto startled, then flushed a horrendous pink color that clashed mightily with the purple suit. Turning to him, he said, “Owen. What are you doing here?”

“Did you shoot someone? Get dropped on your head? Go colorblind?”

Ianto shook his head and muttered something about Jack and curses, but said clearly, “No.”

Owen waited for him to say more, but it didn’t seem as if Ianto would clarify just what the hell was going on. “Can I ask about the suit? And the gun?” He eyed the weapon warily.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Before Owen could pry, or make up his own theories, there was a booming sound from above them and a grappling hook wound itself around a column a few meters away. Owen looked up to see a dark shape sliding down the cable from near the ceiling. The shape got closer and he could finally see—

“Oh bloody hell.”

“Holy intruder in the HubCave, Robin! …we need a Robin.” Jack slowed on the grapple line and landed on his feet. He wore… Owen wanted to bleach his eyes. Jack wore a decently realistic Batman costume, complete with dark makeup around his eyes. He struck what Owen supposed was a Batman pose and asked him, “What are you doing here?”

“Killing time by doing busy work. You?”

“I live here.”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Do you normally dress up as Batman, and Ianto as… Um…” Then it clicked. “Ianto, are you supposed to be the _Joker_?”

Ianto gave him one of his ‘I’m humoring you, now do shut up’ smirks and raised the baggie. “Haven’t put the makeup on yet. It gets on the protective wear at the range.”

“And the fired gun is for…?”

Jack answered, his grin completely out of place underneath Batman’s cowl. “Realism. Joker would get off on the scent of the powder, and Batman would only be more incensed if Joker shot someone. We can’t help it if the Joker has a thing for Batman.”

“You two are sick.”

“Oh, you’ve never role played before?”

“Not like this.”

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m horrified.”

“Then you probably won’t want to be here once Ianto gets the makeup on and I climb back to the ceiling to start over.”

Owen didn’t need to think about it before shaking his head violently. “I will gouge out my eyes. Happily.”

Grinning again before becoming serious in what Owen assumed was an impression of Batman, Jack growled, “Then leave before I sic my Batdactyl on you.”

As if on cue, Myfanwy swooped overhead, and Owen couldn’t help but look up. And… _That is not a domino mask on the dinosaur. She is_ not _wearing a domino mask. She is_ not--

“I’m on my way.” Owen left as quickly as he could, grateful he’d arrived before their little game and not during. He was also grateful he didn’t sleep, because he didn’t need the nightmares.

Exiting the tourist office, he stopped with his hand on the doorknob and thought about how fortunate he’d been.

Ianto was playing the Joker.

Ianto wasn’t playing Robin.

Owen could happily live undead forever without seeing Ianto in short shorts and pixie boots.


End file.
